Leaves In The Wind
by Princess-Pasta
Summary: Telekinesis. Flight. Immortality? One extraordinary discovery destroys lives...or so it appears. Matt Garrety still has a lot to learn about the abilities he acquired a year ago. But what about the two friends that he lost along the way?
1. Chapter 1

**Leaves In The Wind: PART ONE**

Andrew Detmer didn't believe in miracles.

To him, it all seemed like a way for people to ignore the glaringly obvious truth. Life **was** hell. There was no sparkling, magical afterlife. No universe free of pain and suffering. The only reality was the present. He held onto this belief right up until his untimely death.

He was wrong.

Whatever he encountered underground, the glowing red meteorite that turned his world upside down, it gave him much more than just powers. It granted him something more. Another chance. He wasn't sure where he was when he finally opened his eyes. He could feel grass brushing against his arms and a gentle breeze blowing across his face but there was nothing indicating he was even still in Seattle. The last thing he remembered was a violent rage flowing through him. He felt such bitter hatred for everyone and everything. He wanted the world to feel his agony. He wanted them to endure all the heartache that he had. If they couldn't understand then he would make them pay. Everything came rushing back to him in a blur. There was so much chaos and destruction, all damage inflicted by his own hands. Someone else was there with him. His cousin, Matt Garrety. He had been trying to stop him, get him to calm down. What did he know? He was weak and pathetic just like everyone else. Andrew wanted him to go away, to leave him be. He didn't want to hurt him but he would if he had to. He would hurt anyone that got in his way. But it didn't work that way. His memory was suddenly fuzzy. What happened?

He sat up, ignoring his aching muscles, and looked around him. He was in the woods. Specifically, he was near the area where him, Matt, and Steve first discovered...whatever it was. He still wasn't sure what to call it. A meteor? Some kind of alien object? Something buried by the government? All he knew was that coming in contact with it changed their lives. He stood up and started to walk, his feet leading him to the hole by memory. Andrew remember the day he discovered his telekinesis. It was one of the happiest days of his life. Finally, he possessed something that nobody else had. He worked tirelessly to strengthen his mind but he didn't really have to. He progressed faster than Steve and Matt. It seemed to come naturally to him. He started to think that he was better, stronger, smarter than both of them combined. He had something over them. They had friends and girlfriends and parents that cared but he, he had this. He frowned as he climbed over bushes and upturned rocks. It wasn't always that way.

Matt was family and he loved him. He wanted to be his friend. But Matt was embarrassed by him, just like everybody else. He drove him to school, looked after him, he even called him on weekends sometimes and invited him out. But he didn't introduce him to his friends or talk about him much. Andrew wasn't even sure people knew they were cousins. That hurt him but he looked past it because who else did he have? He would've never guessed that Steve would become his friend. Steve Montgomery exuded confidence. He was an athlete and in the running for student body president. He was, by all definitions, cool. Andrew always thought he would be an asshole. Anybody with that much popularity couldn't be a nice person. But he was wrong. Steve was personable and charismatic and...fun. Steve treated him like a person, not an insect. He looked at him as if he had something to offer. He thought he was smart and he wanted him to make friends. Andrew felt tears stinging the back of his eyes but he angrily swatted them away. He didn't mean to hurt him. He never wanted to hurt him.

He made it back to the area where the anomaly was but the hole was covered up by dirt and rocks. Buried. Somehow, Andrew knew it was still down there. He could almost feel it, like a pulse. He had so many questions that he wanted answered. But who could he ask? He sat down on a mound of dirt and rested his pounding head in his hands. They were so stupid, all three of them. Messing around like their powers were just toys. Scaring people in stores, playing baseball in midair, moving parked cars. It was all so juvenile and a clear indicator of their immaturity. Andrew looked upon those moments sadly. He was happy then but of course that couldn't last. He ruined it just like he ruined everything. He balled his hands into fists and a small rock jumped into the air, hovered for a moment, and then dropped back down. He looked at it for a moment before he started to concentrate. The rock lifted again easily, this time much higher. It stayed suspended in midair for a few seconds before it went crashing into a nearby tree, leaving a small hole in the trunk. Andrew felt a slow smile creep across his face.


	2. Chapter 2

**PART TWO:**

Steve Montgomery was aware that his face was being pelted by freezing cold rain. The icy torrents soaked through his jeans and t-shirt, numbing him to the bone. For some reason, he couldn't remember the time or day...even the month. Where was he? He tried to roll over so that he wasn't facing the muted, grey sky but his body wouldn't cooperate. Everyone of his muscles felt tense and taut, like someone had stretched them to maximum capacity. Even on his most intense workout days, he never felt this stiff. Wherever he was, there had to be someone nearby. He opened his mouth to call out but no sound was emitted. It was as if his entire body was working against him. He tried to remember if he'd been in some sort of accident. Did he get hit by a car? HIs limbs didn't feel broken. There was no blood, not scrapes or bruises. There wasn't even so much as a vehicle or broken glass. That theory thrown out the window, he tried to think of anything else that would render him immobile. There was the possibility of a seizure but he didn't have a history of that sort of thing. He squeezed his dark eyes shut tight, willing himself to remember anything. That's when he saw a flash of searing white light beneath his eyelids. Lightning. He was struck by lightning.

That wasn't all. He could see himself floating among the clouds, rain pelting him then too. A few feet away was a figure...Andrew. He was pleading with him, begging him to return to the ground. It was dangerous to be up there; he knew it then. But he couldn't desert Andrew when he was so distraught. There was no telling what could happen if he left him alone. Too bad he was the one who got hurt.

Using all of his effort, Steve managed to hoist himself forward so he was sitting up. Even that seemed to exhaust all of his energy so he was left feeling weak. There was something more to this story. He just had to figure out what.

As his eyes started to focus, he realized exactly where he was. The dirt underneath him was covering the formation he discovered back at that party. At the time, he was only concerned with getting the thing on tape. He'd never seen anything like it before. Crystallized rock that seemed to be carved directly into the dirt. It captivated him, drew him in. That warm blue light comforted him, in a way. Something about it...

The thought never occurred to him that there was a potential for disaster. As soon as the quiet hum surrounding him turned into a violent pulsing, there was nothing he could do. Everything around them glowed fiery red and then there was the blood. He was surprised all three of them made it out alive. Him, Andrew, and Matt. They were lucky.

He ran his fingers through the dirt, feeling a slight vibration through his fingertips. Whatever it was, it was still down there. It held all the answers, he was sure of it...there was a footprint.

He slowly lowered himself to a crouch where the perfect imprint of a sneaker was pressed into the dirt. Someone had been here recently. He knew there were only two people who would know this location. Now, he just had to find them.


	3. Chapter 3

**PART THREE: **

For the first time in almost a year, Matt Garetty's nose was bleeding.

He was sorting through his notebook when drops of dark blood started to stain the pages. Instinctively, he pinched his nose using his thumb and index finger to staunch the flow. In one swift motion, he was standing, knocking over his computer chair in the process. He quickly stumbled down the hall to the bathroom where he inspected himself in the mirror. As expected, he looked terrible. Blood was dripping down past his mouth and chin, staining the front of his sweatshirt. Not to mention most of it was drenching his right hand. Sighing, he grabbed a paper towel and tried his best to clean the mess. He should've been focusing on the task at hand but he couldn't stop the pit forming in his chest...

Matt was no stranger to nose bleeds. There was a point in time where they seemed almost normal. But that was before...when everyone was still alive. Since the death of Steve and, shortly after, Andrew; he stopped having them. It was understandable; the nose bleeds alerted him when one of the group was in danger. There could be no danger when he was the only one left. And he** was** the only one left...

Wasn't he?

He shook his head, clearing away that thought. No, it was impossible. Sure, telekinesis was also supposed to be impossible but nobody could escape death. Superpowers or not. Despite the circumstances, this wasn't a comic book. He wasn't Superman. _They_ weren't Supermen. Things like that didn't work. He could pray and wish all he wanted. Steve and Andrew were dead and they would never be back.

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

He glanced to his right towards the door. Leaning against the doorframe was his girlfriend, Camille Harrison. She was watching him closely, hazel eyes full of worry.

"I'm okay. It's nothing."

"Nothing?" She walked over to him, tilting his face to get a better look, "There's blood all over your face!"

"It's just a nose bleed. No big deal." He held up a bloodied napkin, "I can handle it."

She shook her head defiantly before turning on the faucet. She grabbed a new towel, ran it through the water, and then started to gently dab his face. He didn't protest, letting her do what he couldn't. It was a relief to have someone else take over when his brain was on overdrive.

"There." She washed her hands before brushing some auburn hair away from her face, "Now, tell me what's going on. I mean, besides the nosebleed."

"What makes you think something's going on."

She gave him a small smile, "I know you, Matt. It's written all over your face. Something's bothering you. I really wish you would tell me more."

Matt kept most of his life a secret from Camille. Firstly, he couldn't exactly explain what happened without 1) sounding insane, 2) giving himself away. There was still the possibility that the government or FBI, CIA, whoever was looking for him. He couldn't risk being found. It was the main reason he moved far away from Seattle. Staying there would've been suicide. While he trusted Camille, there was still that little sliver of doubt. There was no telling how she would react to the truth. Would she be upset? Terrified? It was better to keep her in the dark.

"There's nothing wrong." He gently stroked her cheek, "Everything's great."

"...Okay." She didn't sound convinced, "Well, dinner will be ready in-"

At that moment, the doorbell rang. They both exchanged confused glances.

"You're not expecting someone, are you?"

He shook his head, "No. Maybe it's Jehovah's Witness or something."

"At 6 PM?" She chuckled, "I doubt it. Whatever, I'll be right back."

As she went off to answer the door, Matt couldn't shake the sinking feeling that something was wrong.


	4. Chapter 4

**PART FOUR: **

Steve didn't know what to expect when he came upon Apartment 201. Bridgewater was a nice, quiet town. One with cozy, family owned grocery stores and shopping plazas that hadn't changed since 1930. It was the last place he expected to find Matt. He was never one for this type of lifestyle. He liked to live fast and party hard. Steve wasn't sure how he knew to find him here. When he started to fly (a few hours after he awoke), it was as if an invisible string started to guide him. He crossed towns, cities, bridges...whole states. Until he ended up in Maryland. From there, it didn't take long to pinpoint Matt's position. It was almost as if he had some internal radar. It certainly wouldn't surprise him if that were the case. Nothing about his body made sense anymore.

He knocked on the door three times and stood back, waiting for someone to answer. It took a few minutes before a petite girl with a face full of freckles and curly auburn hair was standing in front of him. She regarded him quizzically, clearly not expecting any guests.

"Hello?"

What to say? He decided it would be best to go with the standard question, "I'm sorry to bother you but does Matt live here? Matt Garetty?"

"...Just a minute."

She disappeared back inside but it didn't take long for Matt to come to the door. Steve wasn't expecting such a transformation. He'd dyed his hair to a dark brown, almost black. He was dressed in a faded flannel shirt and khakis, no shoes. The strangest thing was how frightened he looked. His eyes had that frantic, wild look that animals got when they were cornered. Steve wasn't sure what that meant. A lengthy pause stretched out in front of them, where neither knew just where to begin. Finally, Matt spoke.

"...How?" He gripped the doorknob so tightly that his knuckles turned white, "How are you here?"

If Steve didn't know better, he would think that Matt was going to slam the door in his face. What was his problem?

"Dude, it's me."

Matt still looked unconvinced, "HOW? How in the _hell_ are you walking? How are you _breathing_?!"

Steve paused, "The same way you are? Listen, Matt, I don't know what's going on."

"I went to your funeral." He said, voice breaking, "I saw your casket...your grave..."

"...My grave?" Steve's blood ran cold, "You mean-"

"You were dead, Steve. You were...Andrew..." He shook his head, trying to dispel the painful memory, "You **can't** be here. It doesn't make sense!"

"Well...I am." Steve looked down at his hands, "I don't feel dead. I don't even remember being dead. There's a lot I don't remember."

Matt seemed to relax but only slightly, "...I guess I should let you in, huh?"

"If you want."

He stepped back and Steve cautiously crossed the threshold into his apartment. It was nicely furnished and decorated in muted, neutral tones. The place had a homey feel and Steve instantly felt safe. At Matt's insistence, he took a seat on the leather loveseat. Matt sat across from him in a tan e-z chair.

"There's a lot to talk to about."

Steve nodded slowly, "Yeah."

"But for some reason, I don't want to." Matt sighed, "I've been trying to forget that part of my life, start over. Forget it ever happened."

"We can't run away from this."

"I've been trying to for a year and then you just...show up on my doorstep."

Steve could detect a hint of bitterness, "I'm sorry."

Matt laughed but the sound was harsh and hollow, "For what? All of this is beyond our control. It's not you...I hate feeling like I'm being jerked around by...something..."

Steve didn't respond. Instead, he absorbed the intensity of Matt's words. It was the same thing he was feeling as he flew over. The feeling that something was dictating his actions. That he no longer had control of his life. Apparently, he had no control over his death either. Something big was pulling all the strings and whatever it was had to do with that meteorite. He had a gut feeling.

Before he could say anything, the girl came into the living room with two steaming cups.

"I, uh, made coffee. I'll be back with the sugar."

She left them on the table before scurrying back off to the kitchen. Matt grabbed his cup and started to drink it.

"That's Camille." He said, more as an afterthought, "She doesn't know about any of this."

"Understandable. It's not something you can bring up in casual conversation."

Matt laughed, a real laugh this time, "Hey, check out this great trick. Watch me stack these cups without using my hands."

"You'd give Chris Angel a run for his money."

"As if. That would be wasted potential." He paused, "...Maybe that's what this is about. Our potential. There's so much we could change, Steve."

Steve frowned, "I don't know. You've seen X-Men. We're the mutants and the government...is still the government, fictional or not."

They both sat in stoic silence, weighing the heaviness of that truth until Camille returned.


End file.
